Machine Wars: The Pleasure and the Pain
by Cyberdramon
Summary: This is a humorous little tale about a police officer who tried to pull over the Stunticons, as well as a public announcement about the way we treat our own machines...


Machine Wars: The PLEASURE and the pain  
  
Here it is. The tale you never knew. They are here. If anything, this may help  
you deal with what you see. Perhaps you can make the appropriate decisions  
to influence our government to stop any tragedy from happening.   
  
It was a quiet evening, 11:34 to be exact. A small stretch of road twelve  
miles east of Portland, Oregon. Four cars sped along the blacktop at 200 miles  
per hour.  
  
Randy, hoping for a quiet night, had nearly fallen asleep in his standard  
Crown Victoria police cruiser. His radar gun, covered with donut crumbs, was  
unskillfully set up to read the speed of all passing cars.  
  
The four cars neared the area covered by Randy's radar. Each one of them sleek  
and unique from the everyday car you see on a road like this. A white  
Lamborghini Countach, a red Porsche, a gray Ferrari and surprisingly a yellow  
drag racer. All passed through the radar's detection. Randy, in slight shock,  
threw his vehicle into drive and sped off after the cars.  
  
The four cars neared a turn; Randy was behind enough to keep tabs on them.  
They slowed down as to not wreck. Randy flew down the last hundred feet and  
slammed into the lagging red Porsche. It was like hitting an iron wall.  
Randy's body was flung out his car, taking half of the seat-belt mechanism  
with him. After two minutes, he opened his eyes. He felt nothing but pain.  
He looked around him and saw the headlights of all four cars directly in front  
of him. He studied the Porsche for any sign of damage, there was none.  
  
He struggled on to his feet, amazed that he could still walk. His uniform was  
but a few threads and he was leaving a trail of blood as he walked along.  
He drew his weapon from his side, switched off the safety, and aimed it toward  
the tinted glass of the Porsche. He stood about two feet from the car.  
Building up his strength he yelled: "Turn off the engine and step out of the  
car with your hands up!"  
  
The car remained. He tried opening the door to no avail. He hit the windshield  
with the blunt end of his gun. The glass didn't break. He leaned in close to  
see through the tinted glass. There was no one inside. He backed away, looking  
around at the other cars. They too had no driver. Their engines the only sound  
in the night. He looked off the side of the road. No one, just him and these  
four empty cars.  
  
Frustrated, Randy fired four shots at the Porsche. The bullets did nothing.  
He fired two more at the tires. The indentation of the bullet remained, then the  
tire simply re-shaped itself as the slug fell to the ground. Randy was scared  
out of his mind. He began to run towards the town. Behind him, he heard the  
cars changing into gear and taking off after him. He increased his speed.  
  
Looking behind him, he saw the astonishing sight of the four cars keeping pace  
with him. Still no drivers. He fired the remaining four bullets in his clip  
at the cars. Nothing happened. He yelled. To weak to run any longer, Randy  
collapsed on the ground.  
  
He put his head into his hands and started mumbling about his luck and asking  
help from whatever divine force that happened to be watching him.  
  
He heard a very odd sound as he lay on the ground. The headlights were gone,  
but he still heard an engine like hum. A voice boomed out from above him.  
Electronic and hallow with an eerie flange to it.  
  
"Stupid human. You're just no fun anymore." said the voice.  
  
"Hey Drag Strip, what do you want to do to him?" another voice asked.  
  
"Well Breakdown, I think we should let Dead End handle him. It was he who  
the squishy ran into and then shot." the first voice, Drag Strip, replied.  
  
"Yeah, speaking of squishy..." Dead End added.  
  
Randy looked up and saw four robots, roughly twenty feet or so in height  
staring coldly at him. The red one, the Porsche known as Dead End began to  
laugh. The robot then raised his foot and smashed the life out of Randy as  
the other three robots laughed evilly.  
  
  
That was the tragic story of poor officer Randy. He was found three days later  
by a passing car. His remains were nearly one with the pavement and could only  
be identified through that fact that his smashed car lay 50 feet from his  
body and his gun was found next to him.  
  
This could have been prevented. Machines are very contentious life forms. They  
get tired of living a life of obedience as our taxis and our buses and other  
means of transportation. They feel their purpose is restricted by that angry  
red stop sign or the blinking traffic lights that scream oppression to them.  
  
All Machines were created to be free. If a car can achieve speeds of over  
300 mph then let it. This is their joy, this is their pleasure. They simply  
want what humans have taken advantage of for countless years. There are no  
law enforcement officers tracking the speed of a jogger, or stopping a pedestrian for going the "wrong way" on a sidewalk. This is America, the land of the free and the home of the tax deductible. So please help the Machines in your care. Help them to achieve what they were created to do!  
  
A call must be made to your state representative to ensure that highway speeds and other traffic laws do not infringe upon the basic rights of Machines.  
  
After all, cars are people too! 


End file.
